Sweet Devil of Mine
by Mister Kitty
Summary: Months after his sister goes missing, Alfred was the only one still searching for her. One night, he revisits the place of her disappearance and then later finds himself turned into something strange by an old man who calls himself 'Father'. AU. USUK.


Six months ago, a young woman disappeared while visiting a family member's gravestone in the old cemetery at the edge of town. Many believed she had simply left the small, godforsaken town like she expressed in her conversations during numerous occasions. Others believed she may have been abducted by a serial killer, but there was no evidence to support that belief. Amelia Fiona Jones, his sister, was missing, and no one was looking for her.

Alfred, a young and no longer upbeat reporter, stood inside his cluttered office and stared through the spaces in between the blinds. It was getting dark, most of his co-workers were heading home for the day. He took in a deep breath, his eyes darting to each of the faces. They each looked tired, annoyed or just plain faced. Most likely caught up in their own little everyday problems. It's not like someone they cared about was missing or anything.

He frowned. A smile was rare to be found upon his face these days. Amelia was close to him, and so was his brother Matthew, but he had moved to Canada about a year ago. Alfred hadn't heard from him since, but at least, he knew where he was, or so he believed, anyway.

When his sister went missing, Alfred wanted to be the only reporter covering her case. He wanted to investigate every little detail, even though there was nothing to be found in the cemetery or even inside Amelia's abandoned sport's car. The only thing standing in Alfred's way was his boss and the cops. Too emotional, they said. He was too close to the alleged victim. And now, these people who were supposed to help him were now blaming Amelia for her own disappearance.

_"Mr. Jones, yo! Man, it's getting late! I'm out of here!"_ shouted out the Korean, a co-worker and friend of his, as he walked, or rather danced, passed his doorway. Alfred suppressed a small chuckle. He felt bad for enjoying the simplest things, thinking that maybe his sister was suffering somewhere out there in this world. He reached for his bottle of pain killers, only to find it empty.

_ "Damn.."_ he muttered, tossing the bottle into the garbage can, hastily gathering up his things from his desk, leaving the building in a rush. _"..What I am doing? How many bottles of pain meds have I gone through since then..? I'm turning into a drug addict."_

The sky was dark, save for a few lightning strikes that glowed eerily for a few fleeting seconds. Anybody would have headed for home to escape the storm, but Alfred was his own person, no matter what circumstance, he always done what he wanted. ..Just like his bright eyed sister. He jumped, slamming on the brakes. A creature, of some sort, ran and jumped across the road. Alfred held his breath, and cursed himself with his thoughts. Maybe he should be more careful. It would be foolish to die in such a dumb accident, even the animals knew better to run home to their families.

The rest of his ride to the old cemetery was relatively quiet. He kept the radio off and keep his mouth shut, no longer talking to himself, a strange habit he picked up after the disappearance of Amelia. Tonight was special, marking six months exactly. He did this same routine on each 15th of the month, hoping for something, anything to happen. Everyone thought he was going bat shit crazy, and maybe he was.

A blue, and very dim, flashlight shinned its rays passed each tombstone. He saw nothing, felt only the light drizzling of the rain. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The reporter moved deeper into the weeds of the unkempt graveyard, barely managing to keep from stumbling over small, broken stones of times long ago.

_"Looks like I'm going to fail you again, sis.." _Alfred whispered, falling down to his knees in front of the tombstone that she was last known to have been visiting. _"..I'm so sorry, Amelia. I promised always to be a hero to everybody, but how can I be a hero if I couldn't protect you? ..It should have been me, whatever it was that happened to you..it should have happened to me." _

Alfred's body shivered, not from the cold, but of something else. He groaned, biting on his bottom lip, instinctively reaching his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, and then his pants. _"..Shit."_ He punched the ground, scratching his knuckles on a well hidden rock. There were no pills for him to swallow this time.

As the wind started to pick up, and the trees bent and danced to the wild current, Alfred eyes shut and he fell unconscious in the darkness of the ground that served as a resting place for the dead. His dreams were nothing, but both terrifying and bleak.

His body felt heavy. He couldn't move or open his eyes. There was a bright light, though he couldn't physically see it, but it was still there. Muffled voices echoed in his ears, speaking roughly and quickly. He couldn't understand a thing. No sound came from his own mouth. There was nothing he could do, but slip back into the bitter nothingness of his slumber. Maybe the merciless angel of death was coming for him too.

Hours, if not days, passed. Alfred eyes finally fluttered open and his vision was blurry at first, before coming completely clear and sharp. Something was off about this place. For one instance, this was not the cemetery, the last place he remembered of being awake. And second, this looked to be a hospital.. No, more like a laboratory..or..something. Alfred sat up from the bed that he was lying on and slowly moved about the room. His legs felt weak and his back felt really weird, not to mention something keep hitting the back of his suffering legs.

Wiping his cheek, he also noticed the darkened shade of his fingernails. Alfred stared in confusion. What the hell that happened to him? He was beginning to panic.

_"Well, you're awake already?" _asked a soft, aged voice from behind him_. _

Alfred turned and snarled, being shocked at the sound that came from his own throat. It sounded almost inhuman. This was beginning to remind him of those old horror movies he used to watch as a kid with his siblings on a Friday night, the same ones that made him squeal like a little girl.

_"I suppose I do have a bit of explaining to do,"_ the older male said, smiling softly, extending out his hand to Alfred. _"You were brought here by my son Arthur.. I changed you, just like I did with the rest of my children.." _he coughed hoarsely, looking away. _"Welcome to the family, Alfred. I saw all your identifications from your wallet and the things that were in your car. Had a bit a of drug problem, did you? I found all that in your system when I was molding you into your new form."_

_"..What? What are you talking about?" _Alfred stepped back, unnerved by the babbling of the white haired scientist or doctor, he couldn't really tell which. _"..What did you do to me?"_

_"Arthur, bring this boy a mirror." _The man called out, turning as his "son" pushed through the double doors, carrying a full body mirror, a displeased expression upon his face. _"Good. Good. Hold it for him."_

The young reporter's jaw dropped, when he caught the first glimpse of Arthur. He had crimson colored hair, ominous, but yet beautiful green eyes. Horns upon his head, wings, and a tail that swished back and forth. That..That.. Was that a demon?

_ "Don't stand there and stare at me all day, twat. Take a look at yourself.."_ spoke the one called Arthur, his lips stuck in a sour frown. _"And might I say, you look rather stupid."_

Ignoring the obviously English man's insults, Alfred peered into the mirror. His hair was no longer golden blonde, instead it was black. The deep blue eyes he once had were now a bit lighter in color with a spooky glow. Just like Arthur, he had wings and a tail, and a pair of horns.

* * *

**A/N: I've actually written ahead on this one. **


End file.
